Keeping the Faith

2014 Bernadine C. Taylor. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 02/21/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4918-3820-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-3819-8 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-3818-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013921882

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CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

In Loving Memory

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Come travel with the author as she takes you on a journey through one’s childhood into adulthood, where you will find memories unfold from a distressed yet cool setting of life for Celeste Brooks as Lil’ Mama. Based on the triumphant history of strong African American women, overcoming the struggle of raising a family virtually alone, Keeping the Faith, chronologically recalls how the character of Lil’ Mama survives one family crisis after another.

Determined to break bondage’s of the past and future by increasing in faith, Celeste Brooks (as Lil’ Mama), candidly detail how the lifestyles of the two men, that are the most important in her life, Lester Coles portrayed as "Dad" and Mario Tate, her boisterous husband, stand in direct opposition to the values she has placed on "family," along with two of her sisters, Cora and Charmaine.

Remarkable and so intertwined are the turn of events that will not only capture your innermost fears, but at the same time, cultivate a peaceable frame of mind, filled with an array of splendor and excitement.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To my three AWESOME adult children,

Colletta Taylor, Eugene Taylor, III

and Celena Joy Taylor

I love you dearly… you have made me so very

PROUD in all obtaining College Degrees!

Thanks for taking such good care of me

When I was sick…

And also driving me wherever I want to go!!

You are my LIFE!!!!

To the Glam Squad

Jeilen King Mesa and

Nizhayah Marcee’Ana Taylor-Brown

My first two precious grandchildren

You keep me motivated… Lead the way!

To none other than Janet (Murphy) Taylor

my angel… my DIL from your MIL

The initials say it all for us…

I am so blessed to love you!

To Carlos Mesa and Marcellous Brown

Who will always hold a special place in my heart!

To my mother, Patricia E. Brown,

sisters and brother and to ALL my neices & nephews.

Peace, Love and Always Strength!

IN LOVING MEMORY

SYLVESTER COLEY

1919-1985

WHO NEVER DENIED ME AND

TAUGHT ME THE MEANING OF

SURVIVAL WITH HAPPINESS.

I WILL NEVER FORGET HIS

TENDER CONCERN, WARM

HEART, GENTLE HANDS AND

THE SOUND OF HIS VOICE.

KENNETH VICTOR BROWN, SR.

1952-2009

I REALLY MISS YOU BROTHA’ MAN!

YOU WERE THE BEST BIG

BROTHER A BABY SISTER

COULD EVER ASK FOR.

God setteth the solitary in families;

He bringeth out those which are bound with chains; but the rebellious dwell in a dry land."

-Psalm 68:6

PROLOGUE

When I was about thirteen years old, I attended a soul stirring revival that lasted for two weeks. Evangelist Earl Dawkins came from Columbus, Ohio, formed a mass choir, held workshops and preached ’til he couldn’t preach no more. Our church really enjoyed this revival, I’m tellin’ you, especially since I was raised by relatives who made sure that I kneeled to pray day in and day out and had to memorize the Twenty-third Psalms and recite all them scriptures too. They tried to do accordingly, "Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old, he will not depart from it. Well, that’s what worked for me. I didn’t forget. Some things you will go through, so you can see for yourself, but you’ll always hear elder voices in your mind saying, I told you so, I tried to tell you, or simply Go this way, go that way."

The congregation was seated, enjoying the sermon. Afterwards, Evangelist Dawkins spoke in a miraculous tone, "If you want to be saved, won’t you come? As I listened, dwelling on the sermon the entire time, I thought to myself, This sounds great! So, I got up and stood in line amongst others who wanted to see a difference in their lives too. When my turn came up, the Minister laid his hands on my forehead, after he dabbed his finger with oil and exclaimed, . . . . Cleanse her from all iniquity, and set her free . . . . I could feel the immense pressure begin to slowly leave my body. It felt as if weights had been lifted off of my shoulders. Hallelujah!" I shouted.

All of a sudden, I felt extremely hot, like I was on fire. I couldn’t be still. Right then and there, I began shouting and spinning around and leaping for joy. After a little while, I felt overjoyed, yet so fatigued. As I began to take my seat, my brothers and sisters greeted me with hugs and blessings. I also felt empty inside and a bit wobbly but was able to maintain my composure. You see, in those days, we wore shoes that had an enormous platform. My sister, Ann said, "Girl, we thought you was gon’ fall with those clog-hoppers on, so glad you didn’t."

Without the proper guidance, I didn’t quite know how to apply the word to my life nor to the circumstances around me. I continued to go to church, but that’s all. I sang in the choir, participated, along with Ann and one of our cousins, who was the musical director, but was not able adapt to what the preacher was speaking on. Either he wasn’t explaining it right or his muffled speech made it tough to follow. So while sitting in the choir stand, we would give one another that quizzical "raised eyebrow" look. Needless to say, the message wasn’t getting over clear, so we would oftentimes read a few versus down for ourselves.

Ann and I also attended this same church with our godfather, Apple. We would go over to his house on the weekends to assist him with chores, meet with other young people to clean the church too. That’s when I saw my first "church mouse. Ann was like, did you just see dat,? Un, hun." I replied, which gave way for our next move, yep you guessed it, we jumped right on the pews.

When it was time for us to wake up for church, "Apple would call, Rise and Shine! Get on up from there. Rise and Shine! I use to love it when he would address me as Girl of the World" and let us invite all of the choir members over after rehearsals. We would have a good ole’ time cooking cheeseburgers and french fries.

A new Minister was assigned to the church, after some time. He preached exceptionally well, was more astute, and concerned about the youth. Membership and activities even picked up a bit, though the members of thirty and forty years had no intention on stepping to the side to let the young people do anything right away. And you dare not get too familiar with the new Pastor just in case the organization decided to vote him out. It was like bonding with a foster child, knowing any day they could easily be removed. So, for the most part, I remained and just like a new born babe, continued my life’s journey of the learning and growing process.

I was the youngest daughter out of eight children. One brother, Bernard, passed away when he was two and a half months old, due to a heart murmur. Born and raised in Baltimore, Maryland, I had the pleasure of living with elder cousins, Willard and Marquerite, as a child.

Willard was more commonly known as "Cousin Manny and Marquerite as Sister." Cousin Manny was my grandfather’s second cousin who often looked after my mother and her sisters when they were children, as did, our godfather, "Apple, who was referred to as Big Apple," because of his stature. He was such a tall and robust man.

Back in those days, families were very close knit and rightly so. Mama wasn’t one to be still with bingo being one of her most favorite hobbies. She would send my siblings to stay with other relatives from time to time. At five years old and without a care in the world, I went home on the weekends.

One weekend, in particular, the family was gathered around as I approached the door. I nudged my way through and ran to hug Mama but couldn’t get quite close enough, it was something in our way. Like an inquisitive little child, I asked, What’s that Mama? pointing to her stomach. "I’m gonna have anotha’ baby. But you’ll still be Mama’s baby. Both of my eyes began to twitch as I thought, How?"

"Nan nan a nan na, you’re not going to be the baby anymore!" my sisters snickered.

I was more than happy, when it was time for me to go back over to Cousin Manny and Sister’s house since I was an only child over there and could be their baby. That was called sibling rivalry. I imagine that’s when I became more attached to them. I no longer wanted to go home on the weekends and Mama didn’t force me to. My sisters would call me on the phone, "Ha come you don’t come over or call us anymore, Lil’ Mama? Because I’m havin’ fun where ’um at, I’d reply. Cora, being the most informative, took the receiver, Well anyway, Mama had a boy and we’re gonna call him baby Anthony."

The following weekend I went home to admire our new addition. Each weekend thereafter, Anthony would grow bigger and bigger. Mama said, "He just like your Dad . . . big! He would take advantage of my toys and when I would tell him no, then he’d plead, Aw-w, c’mon, Lil’ Mama, let me play with them. Wait ’til you get yo’ own. Cora then remarked, I hope you and baby Anthony don’t wait ’til the end of the year, ’cause it ain’t no Santa."

Be quiet, it is! It is! Isn’t it Mama! I cried.

Ya’ll leave her alone!

But that didn’t stop Cora and Renee. As soon as Mama would turn her back, they continued to tease, "Can a big fat man come down a chimney? and Who do you think eat the cake?"

I didn’t want to believe them, because when I returned to Cousin Manny and Sister’s house, I had a baby doll that walked when you held her hand, an easy bake oven and a pink alarm clock. Their one daughter, Vickie, was like another big sister to me. She would take me everywhere, walking. She would oftentimes bring my other sisters over to play with me and take them on little excursions too.

My oldest brother, Kevin, was active in the Marines and my sisters from oldest to youngest were Claudia, Cora, Renee, Ann and Anthony, my baby brother. Our nicknames were the funniest, "Colt 45, Bear, Fat Mama, and Lil’ Mama." Mama’s best friend had a baby girl, a couple of years before baby Anthony was born, her name was Bonnie and what a cute little girl my godsister was.

Bonnie was a terrific kid sister and we played together all of the time, but her and baby Anthony were just the opposite, they would constantly fight, with Cora’s encouragement, of course. Cora would stand them up to face one another and say, "Now fight! While the rest of us would shout, Stop Cora, don’t make them fight!" Cousin Manny, Sister and Vickie were also very fond of Bonnie.

One year Bonnie’s birthday ironically fell on Friday, the thirteenth, she was attacked by a vicious dog. Bonnie’s brothers were building a club house for her in their backyard while the dog constantly pulled away from his chain nearby. It didn’t bother the boys, but Bonnie was terribly afraid. Once the dog did his final tug, the chain popped. Bonnie quickly took off and ran towards the inside of the house. The dog chased Bonnie, jumped up and caught her by the back of the neck and she cried for mercy. After her brothers noticed what was taking place, they immediately ran to her rescue. One of their friends, who was blind, had already heard the dog and began to throw rocks to ward the dog off, It was too late. The dog had bit Bonnie all over her neck, legs and arms.

No sooner than Mama heard the news, she told us what happened, then rushed off to the hospital to join Bonnie’s mother.

The house had already been decorated for Bonnie’s birthday party and though she was a tiny little girl as in teeny-tiny, she turned five years old. We didn’t know what to do as we waited for Mama to return. So we paced the floor, back and forth, getting on each other’s little nerves. After a long anticipated wait, Mama returned and behind her was Bonnie, being carried in by one of her brothers. She whimpered, "I still want to have the party," and insisted that we eat the ice cream and cake. Bonnie had a cast on one leg and the other bandaged. We all felt so sorry for her. Bandages were around her face and neck. The dog had become uncontrollable and ran loose throughout the neighborhood in the past, so the pound was not the least bit hesitant in taking him away.

While living with Cousin Manny and Sister, I had a little black poodle, Topsy, and a bird. Their house was huge. Upstairs was big enough for the billiards room and during the summer months, Sister and I would stay in the backyard tending to her vegetable garden. Summer months seemed longer back in those days and it was always something to do. I was even enrolled in the community arts and crafts program.

I would often see my mother’s brother, Uncle Jay, who was also Vickie’s fiancé and third cousin and my mother’s mother, Grandma Catherine. We all lived in the same vicinity, more commonly known as "walkin’ distance." I played alone very well. I would take my dolls to the upper guest bedroom and listen to the phonograph. Everyone in our house was very fond of music and television too. Cousin Manny would even have his small stand-up television outside for us to watch. We would stay outside watching the television past dusk.

Occasionally, I would peek outside from the upstairs window, while Aretha Franklin’s Rock Steady played on the turn table and from far away, I could see a big, tall man coming down the street. When he would get close enough for me to make out the image, I would scream, "Here comes my daddy, here comes my daddy!" No matter what I was doing, I would drop everything and rush to greet him.

My father was a police officer and looked real good in his blue uniform. He would stop and pull up a chair and I’d hop on his lap so we could talk. "I just came from the house." He would say. Then he would tell me what everyone was doing. You could see the radiant glow that shined from my face when my father visited with me. He would chat with Cousin Manny for a bit and other friends surrounding before he’d soon be on his way.

Okay baby, time for me to go.

Aw, do you haf’ta?

Yes, but I’ll be back this way again. Aw-rightee? Be a good girl. Okie-dokie?

I would give him a big hug and kiss and patiently wait for a chance to go into downtown where I could see him diligently on guard at the Central Bus Terminal. I would see more family members at Cousin Manny and Sister’s than if I was at home. It was the "pit stop" filled with laughter.

We had a close friend who lived with us too named Shorty, a tiny ole’ fella, he was our boarder. Cousin Manny would round all of us up on some days and take us to the farm or we would go fishing. I enjoyed all of the excitement, even the wrestling matches that came on television. They were fantastic. Cousin Manny and I would root, Get ’em Dominic, get ’em. while Topsy would be close by. I tried to hand feed Topsy once and he hauled off and bit me. I was so angry at that poodle. And even though Cousin Manny spanked Topsy for that, it still took me a while before I would play with him again. I began to play more with the bird, "Polly want a cracker? Our bird knew how to say a few words and Sister would often tease me and say that the bird would tell on me if I misbehaved to keep me on my P’s and Q’s. Sister was my second Mom. We were real close and kind of adopted one another. I would enjoy putting on her wigs and pretend to act just like her. They would let me eat cereal during anytime of the day or night. I just loved that. I told my father, I eat cereal all the time. Then I asked him, Is it good for me? Of course, it’s only an appetizer," he said.

One thing I thought was so peculiar, even though it looked nice, was the furniture arrangement upon entering their home. You walked right into the bedroom. It never looked out of place because it was spotless and the bed was made up to perfection and laid out with dolls. Sister taught me how to roll the pillows and I would practice on my own bed. There stood the telephone stand with a chair connect, and our prefix was letters and numbers TL2. Even a television set nearby, Sister’s dresser fragrantly adorned and the bird’s cage at the window. My bedroom was off of that living room, which made me feel very secure at night and mindful of my prayers or else Sister would yell out, "Lil’ Mama, I didn’t hear you say your prayers." I would jump out of the bed and onto my knees. There were two more huge rooms after that, before you even got to the kitchen. Times were mellow and there wasn’t a high crime rate, so you lived as comfortably as you wished.

Shorty’s bedroom was off from the second living room and then there was the long dining room, pantry and attic stairway, where the billiards and more bedrooms were, followed by a country kitchen, in the far rear, where most of the company headed straight for and needless to say, I followed. Sister taught me how to wash dishes with thrill, so I never saw it as a chore.

Aw-right, Lil’ Mama, c’mon and wash these here dishes and don’t forget how I showed ya. If you wash ’em like I showed ya, then dey’ll be clean.

What’cha doin’ that for?

You do this with the glasses. Rub your fingers all around the glass, like this, when you hear the screechin’ noise, dey clean for sure. Not too hard tho’ or you’ll break ’em.

We would help Cousin Manny can the fruits and vegetables and store them in the pantry until it was time to make those delicious peach cobbler or cherry pies. Sister would let me help label the jars and make me pronounce and spell the names on each one.

They would make homemade wine out of the grapes and put them into these big wooden barrels. I would love my part of pouring into the funnel, trying hard not to spill any. Then they would invite company over and "go to town. It tasted like grape juice, but if you drank enough of it, you would know that it wasn’t grape juice. One of their friends, Jessie, would get so drunk, his nickname became, Pissy Jessie. If I saw him coming down the street, in his stained pants, making his way towards the house, I would yell out to warn everyone. You could see everyone as they passed the word to the person sitting down next to them, by whispering, with their hand up to the side of their mouth. Then as he would enter the house, Sister would remark, You bet not wet my couch, dats French Pavilion, baby!"

When Sister and our boarder, Shorty, would have too much to drink, they would start "fussing and fighting with one another. Cousin Manny would have to break them apart right before Sister would reach for the lamp to go upside Shorty’s head, as she would put it. The brawl’s would be over something trivial and I found it to be quite amusing and looked on in amazement, since Sister was tall and slim while Shorty was real skinny and short, and on the other hand, Cousin Manny was stout and short himself. Let’s break it up, ya’ll should stop, then Cousin Manny would try to calm them by using my name, Sister, don’t you see Lil’ Mama right here!" And since I would be dead smack in the middle, it’s no wonder I didn’t get knocked upside my head because Sister would indeed throw things at Shorty. Poor Cousin Manny just thought it was awful for them two to be carrying on like that it front of me. He would take me into the dining room, sit on the sofa and place me in front of him, extending my arms, while he tried to explain the commotion.

I’m sorry Lil’ Mama, you understand how Sister and ’dem get when ’dey been drinkin’, don’t ’cha?

I would nod my head up and down, I’m okay.

They’ll be sober after while.

Cousin Manny, what sober mean?

The only time that there would be upheavals, at the house, was when someone had had too much to drink, whether it was Sister, Shorty or the company they kept. However, most of their friends would come by just to enjoy a game of pool. Cousin Manny taught me how to play the game. As a matter of fact, I became pretty good on the table, so when my sisters and other family members would come over, I would show off. When I didn’t have anything to do, I would walk around the corner to visit Vickie and Uncle Jay. You could hear the hot sounds roaring from the house as you approached it, R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Though you never knew what to expect when you entered. As I walked in, I could see men sitting all over the place, some woke and some conked out. I could tell they had passed out from all of the drinking, because the house smelled just like booze.

Vickie would steadily try to clean up around them. When she wasn’t visiting me, I was visiting her. Besides, she could use the company. There were hardly ever any females. Every now and then, a few of her female friends would be there, but since Vickie didn’t smoke nor drink, they wouldn’t stay too long, unless they were waiting for someone else.

I would keep my distance from Uncle Jay’s friends, because if you came too close, they would try to greet you with a kiss and their breath alone could knock you out cold. I noticed Vickie would keep her distance too, because Uncle Jay would bop her upside the head, if she walked in his way or gave him a certain look. I didn’t like to see him fight Vickie. We would go into the kitchen and I would lend her a hand and also help her pick up the bottles and cans. When Vickie didn’t need my help, I would pick out records and sing. Uncle Jay’s company would give me money, just to keep me singing on and on. Of course, you could buy a lot of penny candy too. I loved doing my song and dance skit, The clean up woman, is a woman too. I would tell my Uncle’s friends when I became weary, "I’m tired, you gotta wait ’til anotha’ day, when I come by, if you want to see me dance and hear me sing. My Uncle would be right there for reinforcement, Leave her alone, and to also make sure that none of the men became manish." I believe they were all scared of Uncle Jay, anyway. Nobody would mess with him. They all thought he was crazy and at times he was! But even if you weren’t crazy, you had to pretend like you were, so you wouldn’t be caught off guard by one of Uncle Jay’s intoxicated friends.

I would be shocked if I went over to their house and folk weren’t lying all around. It would just be Uncle Jay. I often wondered what was wrong with him when he would begin to talk aloud, jerk his hands and go through all sorts of motions in his sleep, even to the point of imagining something or someone was there when it wasn’t. So as Vickie and I would leave the house to go to the store, she would explain to me that people go through a type of illusion, called by some initials, I didn’t understand, the "D.T’s, if they had more booze than their body could handle. Oh," I thought.

Later, as I would head on to her mother’s house, which was home, with Cousin Manny and Sister, Vickie would stand in the doorway and watch me go down the street. Father Joe, who wore all black attire, with a white cloak would wave as he passed by. He walked the neighborhood streets inviting everyone to Mass and to the City Shelter. Vickie would take me there for the bazaars and to bargain shop. While at the bazaar, you could get a bag of groceries or free clothes. Mama liked the bazaars and would usually go. I would see all of my Aunts there too, spinning the wheels. The bazaars were like family reunions. I often asked Vickie, "Can churches sell stuff?" Of course, I was hushed up.

I would love to get back to the house and see that my mother’s mother, Grandma Catherine was over. She was such a lovely person. I would sit right beside her the entire length of her visit. She too, liked to drink, but as Mama said, "I bet you’ll never see a glass in her hand. I never seen her half as intoxicated as Uncle Jay (her only son) and his friends, with or without a glass. Some evenings, we would sit and watch television together for hours at an end. Grandma Catherine would yell, Cut out all the smoochin’ and let’s get on with the picture," as the t.v. stars would begin to kiss during the movie. We would burst with laughter. Besides, I don’t think she wanted me to see that part anyway. Occasionally, I would walk around the